


What Is Made

by MissingTriforce



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Action/Adventure, Eugenics Wars (Star Trek), Gen, One Shot, Poison, Unethical Experimentation, Unethical Medicine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:35:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23364067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissingTriforce/pseuds/MissingTriforce
Summary: During a normal supply run to a lonely planet, Kirk gets tricked into investigating a sinister cult that is writing relationships and morality into its members’ DNA. Something's not right here.Former submission to Strange New Worlds contest, so it reads very much like an episode. McSpirk if you squint, and contains an Aubreyard shout-out, as a treat.
Kudos: 10
Collections: Star Trek Fics





	What Is Made

“Now, Lieutenant, if that’s all, I’ll be returning to my ship.” With a flourish, Captain James T. Kirk rose out of his seat and made for the meeting room’s door, Spock not far behind. Another supply run finished. He could get back to the _Enterprise_ in time for that systems update he’d been meaning to do—

“Actually,” Lieutenant Archivist Aria Hooper said, “I do have one remaining concern.”

Kirk paused. Damn. He turned on his heel and backtracked to his seat to face Aria and her Starfleet-assigned Yeoman assistant. “Yes?”

“My assistant and I are not the first people on this planet.” Aria fiddled with her fingers again—she was a rather nervous person. She’d been fiddling with her uniform hem, her pen, or her fingers all meeting.

“It’s my understanding that Fionntain was first colonized by a neurobiologist, yes. Something about privacy for his experiments.”

“A Dr. Conn Walsh,” Spock added. Kirk exhaled, leaned back in his chair, and crossed his legs, settling in for Spock’s explanation. “His compound settled Fionntain enough so Archives could build this library. It is due to his efforts that you have a safe place to maintain the galaxy’s data.”

Aria tilted her head, a move that accented her lovely, kinky curls. “And are you familiar with his research, Commander Spock?”

“He has not published in a great many years, but I believe his last article discussed genetically altering a patient’s neurochemistry to cure mood disorders using retroviruses. A worthwhile field of interest.”

Aria seemed to decide something, for at once her manner became more determined: her red-uniformed shoulders curled back; her palms flattened against the table; a gleam came into her dark eyes. “It is. It’s just that, during our stay here, my assistant and I have developed some concerns about Dr. Walsh.”

Kirk arched an eyebrow. “Such as?”

“When we first arrived, Dr. Walsh and his group—he has one hundred people working under him—were very welcoming, bringing over food, sharing stories, even explaining hypotheses. However, as time has passed, their visits have been less frequent and far less sociable. Each visit has became shorter and shorter, and the people more and more irritable. In fact, with these supplies you’ve just brought, I can only presume that they’ll pick up their allotment, and even then it will be the first time I’ve seen anyone from the compound in a whole year.”

Kirk saw where this was tending. “Archivist, I can hardly investigate reports of neighbors keeping to themselves. Have you tried visiting them? Calling?”

Aria shook her head. “The last time my assistant Tim or I went, the door was shut in our faces. They either drop our communicator chimes or our calls are perfunctory. I feel that something off is happening over there, and I would like someone with authority to officially investigate.”

“You understand that an investigation is a serious step, Archivist. It means that Starfleet doubts the ability and responsibility of a local authority. It encroaches on the Prime Directive, though we’ll narrowly avoid that because Dr. Walsh is human and supported by Starfleet.”

The Yeoman—Tim Howards—banged his hands against the table. “It’s creepy and cultish and freaking me out!”

It was at this moment that the table chose to set itself on fire. Kirk and Spock understandably jumped from their seats, and Kirk shucked off his shirt to smother out the flames with. Tim and Aria did not move from their chairs. In fact, Kirk was most concerned about Tim’s fingers, which the reddish flames eagerly tickled.

“Tim!” Aria shouted. “Fix it!” With a huge whooshing noise, the fire sucked into itself and disappeared, leaving a rather charred meeting table and Captain uniform, but nothing else.

Everyone was silent for a moment. Spock raised an eyebrow.

“I’m pyrokinetic,” Tim said in an offended tone, as if it were Kirk and Spock who had broken all sense of decorum by igniting furniture. “It runs in the family. We’re descended from augmented human test subjects. Eugenics Wars.”

Kirk blanched. Uh…. “Er, I’m sorry to hear that, Yeoman Howards—”

“But you don’t get it,” Tim said, banging his fist against the table again, and this time Kirk did not miss the glimmer of fire in his eyes. He pointed to Aria. “We literally refer to Conn’s people as ‘the cult.’ As in ‘Conn and his cultists.’ Something’s extremely wrong over there. We really, really need your help. You’re the only starship passing through this year.”

Spock asked, always reasonable, “Besides not contacting you, have they done anything else unusual? Have they acted in a harmful or violent manner?”

Aria gripped Tim’s shoulder. “Calm down,” she hissed. To Spock, she said, “No, they haven’t. Our concern is based on intuition. And…may we offer you a new shirt, Captain?”

Kirk hemmed, considering before replying. “That’s not enough of a lead to launch an investigation. And no, thank you, I’ll just get my own when I return to my ship.”

“I’m still hoping you will investigate,” Aria said, gaze steady and leveled at him. She did have a spark too, when the situation called. Kirk realized how her superiors had thought her fit to be a librarian in outer space. Or maybe she was just avoiding looking at Kirk’s bare chest.

Kirk glanced at his First Officer, whose unreadable expression connoted that there were other things he’d rather be doing rather than dealing with immature archivists, like systems updates. “I’m sorry but we’re going to have to decline.”

“No! We need you!” Tim said. His round cheeks were flushed, and his black bowl cut splitting hairs. “Please!”

Enough of this. “Control yourself, Yeoman,” Kirk said sharply. “This is not the time to let emotions take over.”

“Well said, Captain,” Spock said. Kirk resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He’d be getting an earful from Bones about that comment later.

“Then your business is done here. We’re thankful for the supplies,” Aria said, standing and motioning Kirk and Spock to the door. They walked together to the Transporter Room.

As they shook hands farewell, Kirk said, “Should anything happen, the _Enterprise_ will be in orbit three days for systems updates. Comm anytime.”

“Thank you, Captain,” Aria nodded. “I appreciate it.”

Aria was about to beam them up, when Tim burst in, carrying a muffin. Had he just replicated that? “Captain!” he called. “May I speak to you privately?”

Kirk exchanged a glance with Spock. The Vulcan nodded once. “I shall await your return on the _Enterprise_.”

Tim led Kirk to the hallway. “I wanted to apologize,” the assistant said. “What I said was rude and unprofessional…and so was the whole table thing. I usually have much more control over my ability. It’s just—it’s so damn quiet here, with only Aria. I forget, sometimes.”

“It is a lonely post,” Kirk assented. “How long are you two out here?”

“A small forever,” Tim laughed, but bitterness seeped into the sound. “Back at Archives on Terra, they call us ‘pioneers’ setting up another Memory Alpha, but, as you say, it feels more lonely than glorious.” There was an awkward pause, and then Tim lifted the muffin—which appeared to be sporting pine nuts—underneath Kirk’s nose. “I made you an apology muffin.”

Kirk laughed. “Why, thank you, Yeoman. I accept your apology, and the muffin.”

“You should eat it now—I don’t think those energize well at all.”

Kirk took the treat from Tim and bit into the thing. Nice taste: it reminded his tongue what pumpkin pie tasted like. “There’s a lot of cinnamon in this,” he commented.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t give any to your First Officer.” Tim watched Kirk eat the muffin, bite by bite. Maybe the man _had_ forgotten what’s normal and what’s not.

Thoughts of human interaction were put aside when Kirk’s stomach gave an almighty growl. “Excuse me,” Kirk said. “I guess I haven’t eaten in awhile.”

But he had to say the last line over yet another growl. And another and another. What the—?

Kirk clutched his stomach. His voices graveled out the word: “Sickbay?”

“This way.” Tim grabbed his hand, and Kirk’s bowels trembled. His ears started ringing. What had he eaten? Eggs? Toast? BLT? The muffin?

Kirk stumbled after Tim, tripping more and more as they left the transporter room behind. The ringing grew louder and louder until—“I think I’m going to puke right here.”

“It’s okay. Just let it happen.”

Kirk’s stomach heaved. He felt the uncomfortable acidic viscera of food glommed up his esophagus and shot past his teeth. Damn it, damn it, damn. Kirk’s mind decided to blank out this whole experience. It was only hours later that he woke up.

#

Kirk came back to consciousness with a splitting headache. He raised a hand to his forehead as his brain attempted to extract itself from his skull. “Ugh.”

“You’re awake,” a warm voice intruded.

Now, Kirk was a professional Starfleet captain, so he certainly didn’t jerk himself upward into a sitting position and let his hand fly to his holster, which was worryingly empty. Certainly not. He, very professionally and Captain-like, sat up on his cot and assessed his interrogator. In a very quick manner. Yep.

“We’ve no weapons here, Captain,” the man beside his sickbed said. “They’re not allowed. We left your phaser by the front door. It’s still intact; don’t worry.”

“Well, that’s reassuring,” Kirk said. “And may I ask where this is exactly and who you are?”

The man smiled—a nice smile—and his white teeth shone bright against his dark olive skin and darker, close-cropped hair. His eyes were a remarkable hue for his coloring—a sort of light blue-gray. “My name’s Suibhne,” the smiling man said. “You’re at Dr. Walsh’s research facility. I’m his assistant.”

“Ah,” Kirk said, easily connecting the dots. He dropped some of his professional veneer and clutched at his head. “Did Yeoman Howards bring me here?”

Suibhne chuckled. “I assume. I rather found you on our doorstep when I went to respond to some urgent bell-ringing.”

That Yeoman ding-dong-ditched me at the neurobiologist’s door, Kirk realized indignantly. “I apologize for my young colleague’s behavior. It’s entirely inappropriate.”

Suibhne waved it off. “Never mind, never mind. It’s no trouble. Can I offer you some water? And possibly a robe?”

Kirk gratefully accepted the water bottle, and while he drank, he noted Suibhne’s attire: a long black cloak covered a layered kimono garment, that earthy brown and creamy white color pattern. It looked comfortable and warm. “If you wouldn’t mind sharing clothes….”

“Of course, Captain.” Suibhne rose and exited. Kirk took the chance to look about: the room was medium-sized, about eight by twelve meters, with all walls covered in padding, like Kirk had seen at mental institutions with violent, unsociable patients. Besides the bed, nightstand, and chair, there were obvious cameras embedded in each corner. The door even had a tiny window. A room meant for observation and containment. Kirk tried to stand through his headache, but pain rolled through him down to his toes. Instead, he tried to comm the _Enterprise_. “Come in, _Enterprise_. This is Captain Kirk. Come in, _Enterprise_.”

The comm only fitzed in response. That figured.

Suibhne returned with robes and turned around while Kirk changed. “Thank you,” Kirk said when he finished.

He had just pocketed his comm in the kimono when a hardy knock banged on the door, and in came a stocky man with hair as dark as Suibhne’s, but skin an Irish pale. “Captain Kirk!” the newcomer said. “How do you do? I hear you were dropped off unceremoniously on our welcome mat.”

“You must be Dr. Walsh,” Kirk said, holding out a hand to shake. Dr. Conn Walsh’s grip answered strong and sure.

“Conn, please, since we’ve lost all sense of ceremony.”

“Kirk, then.”

Conn barked out a laugh. “Since you’re here, would you like a tour? You must be curious about what we do here.”

At the mention of a tour, Suibhne, who had been placid and smiling since Conn’s entrance, visibly startled. “I’m sure the Captain has other duties to attend to. He is here for a supply run, remember.”

“Nonsense! That must be done by now. You’ve been here, what, nearly a day?”

Unlike Suibhne’s eyes, which were light, Conn’s eyes were so dark brown they were nearly red. Kirk wasn’t sure he agreed with the way they glittered either. “You’ve noticed our ship,” Kirk said, agreeably. “You have sensors here?”

“Oh yes,” Conn waved, a gesture that matched Suibhne’s, but did not reassure Kirk nearly as much. “I have to know all the variables for an experiment.”

“Aha, do ships in orbit affect your studies?”

Conn turned from Kirk and opened the door. He called over his shoulder, “One never knows.”

Aria and Tim had been right. Despite his charm, this man did set all the intuitive alarm bells ringing. “Finish your water and you’ll feel well enough to walk,” Suibhne said gently, patting Kirk on the shoulder. Looking at Conn with worry in his eyes, he added, “He was poisoned, Conn.”

Conn stood by the door still and expectant. “That’s unfortunate. He seems healthy enough now.”

Kirk chugged the rest of his water. He would investigate this place. Why not, he was here already. He wiped his mouth. “I would be interested in a tour, actually. Show me around.”

Conn nodded. “With pleasure.”

Kirk stood and, instead of pounding in protest, his headache faded. He took a step, and the headache loosened its hold on his brain one step more. He could work like this.

Outside Kirk’s containment room was a hallway with many doors, which led to—Kirk assumed—more containment rooms. They each had steel beam reinforcements on the outside. Charming.

“The acclimation chambers are a little ahead in our tour,” Conn said. “They look intimidating, but each is as comfortable as yours was, and each test subject remains in there for as little time as possible.”

“Test subjects?”

Conn waggled a finger at him like Kirk was a naughty five-year-old. “We’ve already skipped ahead enough. Let’s start at the viewing platform.”

Kirk followed Conn and Suibhne through a sickbay much like Bones’. The doorway to what Kirk presumed was the research laboratory was carefully curtained off. Interesting. They passed the curtain and through another door and Kirk was standing on mountains.

No, not mountains. A window. A huge, floor to ceiling window of the winter world outside. Kirk held his breath. They were so high up and, with the window polished almost to invisibility, Kirk could look over the fluffy tufts of pine trees into the dizzying chasm of a gray, stone canyon below. It was unnerving, and as he walked, Kirk trained his eyes on the opposite wall, the one painted a pleasant light green. “This way,” Conn smiled, but it was in a way that stretched his lips into two lines of chicken meat tipped at the corners. Not quite right.

They climbed up stairs to what must be the viewing platform, as the floor widened to support a huge dome of glass, with nothing to interrupt the circular room but a single couch. A pair of men sat on squishy couch, but they immediately left when they spotted Conn. Kirk ignored it in favor of peering over the edge again, and spotted a waterfall crashing down, the water tumbling and spraying with such ferocity that it reminded Kirk of a Klingon war cry. Ice clung to the pool it spilled into, and snow topped its attendant trees. Probably cold as space out there. Kirk was sure if he didn’t have the robes on, his breath would be fogging.

“I see you admire nature’s beauty as well,” Conn said, coming to stand beside him.

“I once lived on a planet like this for a time,” Kirk said. “It was….”

“Invigorating? Edifying? Brought you to the limit all your natural strength and courage?”

“Among other things.”

“I think nature is important to man,” Conn said. “I think it’s through nature that we grow as individuals and, following that, as a species. Back on our mother planet Terra,” Conn shook his head, “humanity seems soft to me. Everything is easy now. Replicators for food, ubiquitous open clinics for medicine, easy funding programs for housing. I used to have to drive over one hundred miles to escape the sight of houses…. The weak and the strong survive alike.”

The impulse to call Bones shot through Kirk. “Some would call that justice. You’re a Social Darwinist?”

Conn grunted. “Enough to go off-planet for it. I needed a place that had vigor, that had vitality, that,” Conn gestured to the view, practically threw up his hands at all of it, like a conductor to his orchestra, “that was still _wild_. I want humanity to evolve again, and not at the slow, sedate rate you see on Terra, where only the ones with grave genetic disorders leave the gene pool.”

“Your experiments deal with evolution then? You mentioned human test subjects.”

Conn slouched for a second, like he was humbled. “Oh yes, we lucky few, we band of brothers. I am honored that so many have followed me here and have agreed to help me see what humanity can achieve.”

“So it’s entirely consensual?”

“Of course!” Conn said, straightening. “I do have my Hippocratic Oath, as Captains have their Prime Directives.”

A subtle smack there. “It’s only that we at Starfleet are very grateful for you settling this planet for us, and, now that I’m here…” Kirk sidled closer to Conn and leaned forward. “If you needed any extra funding for your projects, in addition to the supplies we provide once a year…. I could whisper suggestions to the right ears.” This was a Total And Complete Lie, but Kirk needed the leverage.

“Ah,” Conn said, glancing at Suibhne. A hardness covered Conn’s expression, a setting of his jaw, maybe. “Well, perhaps you should meet our model test subjects.” Conn nodded to Suibhne, and Suibhne rose to fetch once again. “You’re sure to like them, Kirk.”

That sentence could go so many ways, but it went the way Kirk expected: following Suibhne in were two lovely ladies, one with a ginger afro springing with curls, and the other with hair so blonde it glowed like starlight. “May I introduce Tysheka and Merci,” Suibhne said, pointing first to the freckled redhead and then to the tan blonde. “They act as our heads of security.”

“Captain Kirk of the _USS_ _Enterprise_ ,” he introduced himself.

“Pleasure,” Merci said.

Tysheka only nodded her sentiment. Bottom-rimmed glasses perched atop her nose, and she adjusted them to look down at Kirk. He noted that while Tysheka was certainly well-built, Merci bulged with muscle through her brown-and-cream robes.

Tysheka addressed Conn, “How much have you told him?”

“Nothing terribly scientific yet.”

Tysheka nodded again, and both ladies settled on the couch with Suibhne. Conn continued, “My specialty is neurochemistry and genetics. Those knowledge areas are the tools I have to work with to advance humanity, to make them compete with Fiontainn’s sort of nature.”

“Uh huh,” Kirk said. He watched Tysheka and Merci. They didn’t seem very different, physically. Tall, yes, but Spock was tall. And half-Vulcan, but the point stood.

“I wanted to create a superhuman, an augmented human, but I’m sure you know how disastrously that went for humanity before: the Eugenics War is not to be trifled with.”

 _That_ shook Kirk’s attention back to Conn. Tim mentioned he was descended from test subjects of the Eugenics Wars, people who had been experimented on and discarded in favor of those augments like Khan Noonien Singh. Was this why Tim was so concerned with Conn’s experiments? Because his family—his family’s legacy—was so wrapped up in genetic experiments gone awry?

“I see you are familiar. Khan Noonien Singh is the prime example. Remarkable prowess at everything he set his mind to do. But see, he was unrestrained.” Conn raised a finger to emphasize this point. “He burned bright, but he was a spurting blowtorch when evolution demanded a steady candle. Such are destined for destruction early and often. He lacked…morals, shall we say.” Conn lowered his finger and his gaze darted to Suibhne. “Did you know my partner is Catholic? I find solace sometimes in that ideology. It seems comforting to me.”

Despite his deep brown skin, Kirk could detect a blush spread across Suibhne’s face. He pulled at the neckline of his kimono and produced a little silver cross. Conn closed the distance between them and fingered the polished jewelry. “Yes, much comfort.”

He seemed to shake himself to continue his explanation once more, letting Suibhne’s cross fall. “So this was my task, once I found this most suitable planet: I wanted to boost humanity’s strength, endurance, mental ability, and longevity, enough to compensate for many years of slowing evolution, but I wanted to do so in a controlled manner. Not just with experimental controls, but with a counterpoint to ensure that they would be beautiful, holy candles and not spent blowtorches. They needed to have a…moral compass.

“Yes, a moral compass. Now, moral compasses are very complex and individual, and there’s no way I can inject right and wrong into a human’s brain. No, no: much easier to find pre-existing moral individuals and work with material already there.

“In addition, I want my candles to have stability and not simply rage and conquer. What makes humans stable? I thought about this for a long time. Years of these thoughts bubbling in the back of my mind. And you know what makes humans most content, most stable and happy? Relationships. Romantic, platonic, familial…. All are part of a human having a long, happy life.”

A suspicion rose in Kirk’s mind as to where this conversation was tending, brilliant and horrible at once.

“And so: pairs. But I am not a dating service but a neurochemist. And I’m not going to trust my greatest work to some dating algorithm. Then I thought: neurochemically bonded pairs. Both are strong, but the one is stronger and the other a highly moral individual, with the least amount of tampering. They will be the ground, while the other is the dizzy sky.”

Yep. He had been right. There were times when he enjoyed being right, but this was not one of them. “I imagine there are negative consequences for the most augmented one if they defy the moral compass.”

Conn’s expression brightened with eagerness. “You understand! Yes, indeed. The stronger augment suffers severe emotional distress if they defy their partner. I carefully chose the moral partner after extensive interviews and tests to ensure they wouldn’t abuse this power.”

“And I am certainly careful,” Tysheka said, speaking properly to Kirk for the first time. She placed a hand on Merci’s and Merci intertwined their fingers eagerly. “We emphasize open communication in our relationship.”

“I wouldn’t trade her for the world,” Merci said, smiling and squeezing Tysheka’s hand. Her voice sounded warm and reassuring to Kirk’s ears. “The experiment was entirely consensual on both our parts. We wanted to explore the universe together and be prepared for whatever dangers we find.”

“You’re the stronger augment?” Kirk asked Merci. “And Tysheka is your partner?”

Merci giggled. “Suibhne may be the one with a doctorate in theology, but Tysheka can give him a run for his money.”

“I read,” Tysheka smirked. “The archivists even gave us access to the Federation libraries once they established here. I enjoy them extensively.”

“Just like I enjoy you,” Merci said, and Kirk fought down a blush. He hadn’t been around such an obviously affectionate couple for a long time. Starfleet didn’t necessarily allow….

Tysheka stiffened and shyly smiled in embarrassment and pleasure, and Merci swiped her thumb across Tysheka’s knuckles.

“As I said, Tysheka and Merci are my model test subjects: a settled, healthy romantic relationship between two equals. We have many more here.”

Kirk tentatively smiled in agreement. “So I see.”

A gong sounded throughout the room. “That’s our doorbell,” Suibhne explained in his soft voice.

“I’ll go see who it is,” Tysheka said, rising. “Merci speaks more seriously when I’m not around.”

“I do not,” Merci said.

The interruption put Kirk on his toes again. The augments were disarming, to say the least. “A very impressive sound, almost like an alarm.”

“You seem to be the suspicious sort, Captain,” Merci said, standing up to her full, elegant height.

“Not suspicious, just…analyzing. As I told Conn,” Kirk made a show of stepping around Merci, inspecting her, “I’m here unofficially, but Starfleet is interested in possibly contributing more funding, if your methods and experiments prove up to Federation standard.”

Merci’s smile turned challenging and wicked, her body leaning forward as if ready to leap: Kirk was abruptly reminded of hot country summer dares to grab electric wires. “We don’t need much here. The earth burns and protects.”

“Let us move to the labs then. You can see my sequences yourself,” Conn said.

“It would be best if my Science Officer and Chief Medical Officer were to join me, now that I’ve heard your basic premise. Can they be brought here?”

“Captain!”

Kirk smirked. “Apparently, there’s no need.”

Both Spock and Bones rushed into the room, and Kirk briefly looked them up and down: they hadn’t needed to be drugged to enter in here.

“Jim, what’s this I hear about you being poisoned by a muffin?” Bones exclaimed, tricorder already in hand. The tiny thing lit up and spun as the doctor waved it over Kirk’s chest.

“It’s a long story, Doctor.” A first signal they were on official business.

“I assured them you were all right,” Tysheka said, coming up from behind the two Starfleet uniforms.

Spock drew beside Kirk. “Well, you’re healthy now,” Bones muttered, still obviously disgruntled. He arched an eyebrow and glared at the assembled augments and scientists. “And what are you all doing?”

“Easy, Doctor.” Kirk placed a hand on Bones’ shoulder: restraint. “This is Dr. Conn Walsh, the head of the facility, his right-hand man and partner Suibhne, and Merci and Tysheka, their model test subjects.

“And, as Tysheka already knows, this is my First Officer Spock and Chief Medical Officer Dr. Leonard McCoy.”

“A Vulcan?” Conn noted, interest perking his voice. Better than xenophobia, but the tone made Kirk wary.

“The best,” Kirk said. He strutted a little forward and clicked his heels together. “Dr. Walsh here was just going to show me around his facility. I’m sure I can catch my crewmen up.”

Suibhne smiled his welcome. “Then, shall we proceed?”

Kirk let them go a little ahead. As Spock moved past him, they brushed fingers. I am safe, he thought at Spock; I am suspicious.

#

Once the tour got started, it was hard to stop. The laboratory was first, with huge screens of DNA sequence, chemical equations, protein models, and retroviruses. Bones and Spock reviewed the research carefully, Conn walking them through it. “Retroviruses are a vast field and used unwisely can be devastating, such as in the 20th century AIDS pandemic,” he said. “Here we crafted a retrovirus that is a beneficial tool for our purposes. Retroviruses add their own DNA sequences to the host cell’s. Once we decided on our sequences to code for the augmentations, our next Herculean task was to find a way to spread the retrovirus to every cell in the body without destroying too much of the host’s original cells too quickly.”

With an obvious grudge, Bones grumbled that everything was up to standard. It did look, smell, and sound like the _Enterprise_ ’s sickbay. Everything was clean and mint green. There were even a pair of nurses, a man and a woman, though Conn assured that they only assisted him.

“This is indeed fascinating,” Spock said. “I must regard it with the highest prestige.”

Kirk resisted the urge to bristle at that, because didn’t Starfleet have the higher prestige when it came to science? No matter: Spock just liked their chemical equations, surely.

Suihbne said, “Moving forward, we’re hoping to convert the procedure to a series of medications or pills, instead of needing such invasive and intensive gene therapy.”

Spock said, “That would be even more remarkable, on an already sparkling record. Your species has been trying to understand their own brains since they knew they had them. Dr. Walsh seems to have near complete mastery at how the brain intersects with genetics.”

“Gentlemen, shall we move on?” Kirk said. “It seems my medical officer has finished his assessment.”

Next were the training grounds, which proved to be an outdoor, horseshoe-shaped arena. Suibhne passed out over-robes to Spock and Bones to protect against the cold. Once outside, Suibhne had to clear his throat to be heard over Conn’s and Spock’s eager science chatter. The theologian said, “This area is mostly for the new subjects, once they’re out of the acclimation chambers. Merci and Tysheka train in the forest itself.”

“Find anything dangerous?” Kirk asked.

“Well, the trees are universally tainted with arsenic acid. Besides that, the furry rhinos give us the most trouble,” Merci said in her light voice.

“But they make excellent mounts if you tame them,” Tysheka said. “Dr. Walsh calls his Molly.”

“And she is a dear old thing,” Conn said, suddenly breaking off his tête-à-tête with Spock. They walked the open end of the arena, all bundled against the chill. It really was as cold as space out here. Their breath created a little steam fog above their heads, and Kirk noted both Spock’s discomfort and the augments’ lack of it.

“Captain, according to my planetary research,” Spock said, “there’s also a virulent population of squirrel-like animals here. They have a unique symbiotic relationship with the trees. Here’s one now.”

A squirrel that seemed more a rodent poof-ball with legs scrambled around a waving branch of the nearest pine tree. Swaying gently, the squirrel spun around the top of the tree, raising a golden ball of dust. Through all the frolicking, a pinecone emerged from the pine needles, and the squirrel rubbed all over it, spreading the dust. Seeds fell out like candy out of a piñata. The squirrel, and several of its enterprising friends, shot down the tree to collect the seeds. Kirk had glanced at the reports: the squirrels were edible, but their diet of poisonous seeds made them highly dubious to consume without careful preparation. The trees, in which the planet was covered like some sort of bearded spatial mountain man, would kill a human as soon as shade them.

Suibhne remarked, “Once the subjects are stable, we mostly let them pursue their own interests. The flora and fauna here are of particular interest to Dr. Stephen Maturin, who is part of second batch of test subjects. He is the moral partner to a Captain Jack Aubrey.”

Surprised, Kirk said, “Aubrey? The name sounds familiar. I didn’t know him personally, but there was a Jack Aubrey in his final year at the Academy when I just started. At the last minute, he dropped out and disappeared.”

“That’s our Jack. He plays a mean violin,” Tysheka said. “I keep trying to get him to teach me, but that involves stopping him from doing cello-fiddle duets with Stephen.”

“Sounds like fun and games,” Bones said, obviously disbelieving that there were any fun and games in the local galaxy, let alone on this planet. “If you’re so into nature and no replicators, where are your gardens? You gotta eat something.”

“Right this way,” Suibhne said. “They’re under snow right now, but we can show you the plots.”

Their huddling entourage followed Suibhne into the forest itself. The pine smelled crisp and fresh in Kirk’s nose as they stepped and crackled down the snow, going single file through the brush. Hanging tree branches had been carefully clipped away. Kirk vaguely wished Spock would lift his hood to protect against the cold. When the Vulcan just kept plodding ahead, Kirk snuck up behind him and lifted it himself, dropping it down on the Vulcan’s brow with a cursory brush of fingertips. Spock didn’t bat an eye, but mumbled, “Thank you, Captain.” The old dog was blushing: Kirk was sure of it.

“Ahem,” Bones coughed.

“Dr. Walsh, would it be possible for me to mind meld with one of your subjects?” Spock asked suddenly.

Conn stopped dead in his tracks. Suibhne patted him on the shoulder. “I think it would be all right. We are all about joinings here.”

“Yes,” Conn said slowly, mulling the thought over. “I think it would be good. Interesting.”

The path opened into a wide clearing that was buried under the white. This must be their gardens. Three sets of pairs were shoveling paths among the rows. They didn’t even spare a glance for the Starfleet Officers, which meant they were warned of their coming. Kirk definitely agreed that Aria and Tim were right about Conn’s group raising not one or two but several eyebrows, but how many more of their suspicions could be confirmed? Conn set off many intuitive buzzings, but Suibhne was his partner and Suibhne seemed benign enough.

A mind meld would clear some things up. Kirk had been hoping Spock would offer, the finger brush the only suggestion the Vulcan needed.

Suibhne, face genial as ever, explained about their farming techniques: with no replicators, they went at farming with an emphasis on sustainability. It seemed impressive, but Kirk was no expert. Merci and Tysheka stood unnaturally still throughout the talk, simply holding hands.

And so back indoors they went. The couch on the viewing platform would do for a mind meld. Tysheka volunteered to be meld first, since she had the least augmentation. “Am I still allowed to touch her?” Merci asked.

“As long as I do not connect with both of you at once,” Spock said.

They settled in. Kirk did not hold his breath, because he had complete confidence in his First Officer. Spock had won awards for this, even. No need for flutters in bellies. It’s not like Tysheka is a Medusan, whose very looks drive people insane, or a homicidal probe like the _Nomad_.

With his delicate touch, Spock laid his hand on Tysheka’s psi points. He closed his eyes, and Kirk’s heart beat somewhere in the vicinity of his ears.

“Fascinating,” Spock said after a collective breath of silence.

“Two ‘fascinating’s in a day. We’ll have to start charging,” Bones said.

Kirk’s hand flew to Bones’. “Shush, Doctor.”

“Don’t ‘shush’ me!” Bones retorted, heated.

“It appears I can…” Spock interrupted. “…I can feel Merci’s mind _through_ Tysheka’s.”

“What?” Kirk said, startled. “How is that possible? Not even a marriage bond can connect two people that much.”

“Yes, but I can….”

Merci, formerly smiling in pride, suddenly frowned and closed her eyes. “We are one.”

Goosebumps sprouted up Kirk’s neck. Oops.

Merci, Tysheka, and Spock, united, intoned, “We are one. We are devoted. If someone were to tear us apart, the very sky would be torn asunder first. Hell hath less fury than our wrath.”

Well, that’s clear enough. “Spock,” Kirk said. “Break it off now.”

“We are one. We are devoted. If someone were to tear us apart—”

“Yes, yes, we know that already.”

“Is something wrong, Kirk?” Conn asked. The man was peering, curious, at his subjects, but seemed to feel no distress. “Perhaps we could perform this again with sensors available. I’m interested in how their brainwaves are syncing…..” Suibhne coughed. “With Mr. Spock’s consent, of course.”

“Well, he needs to wake up from this one first,” Bones said. He marched over to Spock and shook him. “Wake up, you goblin.”

Spock broke away from Tysheka with a start. Blinking as if woken from a long nap (if Vulcans ever took naps), Spock said, “Excuse me, Doctor.”

“That’s not going to get you out of this,” Bones said. “What’s your report for the Captain?”

Spock attempted to stand, but Bones pushed him back onto the couch. Tysheka and Merci’s eyelids fluttered, as if struggling to wake, and Conn pulled a flashlight from his pocket and flashed it into their eyes. The neurochemist said, “I agree with Spock’s earlier sentiment that it was fascinating.”

Suibhne, frowning, chided, “Conn, let us see what he has to say now before you run them in for testing.”

“We’re fine for testing,” Merci said, quiet and sleepy.

Bones bristled like a porcupine, “No one is doing anything until Spock—”

“Over-emotional as ever, Doctor,” Spock said. He looked at Kirk up through his fringe and long lashes. “The experience was an interesting one, Captain. While I had access to all of Tysheka’s emotions and thoughts, I could go even further into Merci’s. It was like a maze with left turns into another maze—this suggests some element of shared communication. I felt their abilities: they are good. They are good at…everything.”

“That’s great to hear,” Kirk chuckled, aiming for some humor, but humor was lost on Spock on the best of days.

“But to feel two souls, two beings so connected that raising one hand is the same as raising the other’s….” Spock staggered up and rested a palm on Kirk’s wrist, fingers curling around his bones to feel the heartbeat. “It is lovingly eloquent.”

“You know, if you desire,” Conn glanced at Kirk’s face before fixing decidedly on Kirk and Spock’s hands, where they are joined, “I’d be happy to perform the procedure on you three.”

“What!” Bones squawked. “Absolutely not!”

“Think of the scientific implications,” Conn said, his words becoming more and more excited, his eyes glittering in their red darkness more and more, “I have always been interested in a three person unit, but none have been as clearly presented as your group.”

Bones blushed, “What are you implying, Dr. Walsh?”

“You three—you might not have noticed, but I have been watching you all along. You function almost perfectly as a trio now, but imagine if you were biochemically connected. You would be one of the most unstoppable forces in the universe.” He spoke softly but excitedly, the words stepping confidently out of his mouth like footsteps down a darkened hallway.

Suibhne stepped to Conn’s side without a sound, as if wary of disturbing his splendor. “My dear Conn, this is a generous offer you’re making and it will take time for the lab to be even ready…. You should let them rest and think on it.”

“Of course, of course,” Conn conceded, nodding vigorously. “I wouldn’t dream of forcing—of course not.”

Kirk was too flabbergasted by the suggestion to react. Him? Further connected with Spock and Bones? How would that—it was preposterous. Never in his life.

Something caught Kirk’s eye, something just beyond Conn and Suibhne’s manic faces. Two kids. Two boys.

“Children?” Kirk said, the word slipping out of his mouth before he could stop it.

“What!” Conn said, whirling around. “Oh, those are my nephews. They have nothing to do with the experiments.”

The two children startled over being caught and began running, black bowl cuts just like Tim’s bouncing down the corridor. A feeling niggled at Kirk: these were the only elements of the tour that Conn did not want him to see. Kirk started running after the two boys and could not stop.

He chased them down several hallways, past the labs, and through the doorways that led to the outdoor training arena. One of the boys—Kirk abruptly realized they were twins—glanced backwards and seemed to nod, seemed to brush the other boy’s hand. Careening towards the forest, they pivoted as they ran away from the established trail. Kirk’s pace slowed considerably as the tiny path they were following did not accommodate bigger people’s stature or feet: brush kicked aside still stuck to Kirk’s trousers, and branches simply grazing the tops of the boys’ head sizzled holes in Kirk’s hood.

“Talk to me!” Kirk called after them. “I promise not to hurt you!”

They all ran for another minute, and Kirk stumbled after. His robes snagged and tore with the disjointed sound of ripped fabric. Smoke trailed into the sky from the acid burns.

As bluntly as the twins had appeared, they stopped. Kirk nearly tripped over them in their abruptness, but saved himself just in time. They held hands and stared at him with matching brown eyes, wide and moon-like. As one, they asked, “You’re Captain Kirk?”

Kirk crouched down low. They were in a clearing so small that the three of them barely fit. “Yes, that’s me. Who’s asking?”

“I’m Eionn,” said the twin on the left.

The twin on the right said, “I’m Quinn.”

“Conn is our uncle,” Eionn said. He patted Kirk’s face. His hands felt feverish. “You and the pointy-eared one are cute! The doctor is grumpy!”

“Our parents were captured by Romulans and never heard from again,” said Quinn. “It broke uncle.”

“We heard him crying,” Eionn added.

“I see,” Kirk said. He quickly visually checked the surroundings, trying to see if any augments were in sight. No: only purple-bellied birds that reminded him of robins. “Do you boys usually wander the forest alone?”

Eoinn laughed, showing shiny white child teeth. “That’s funny,” he giggled. “We’re not alone, ‘cause you’re with us, beep, beep.”

“Who else would come after us?” Quinn asked, head tilting. “We’re strong.”

Kirk felt the blood leave his face, and not in a way that had to do with cold. “What?” He crouched down and placed a hand on each of the boys’ shoulders. “You mean you eat your vegetables, right? Drink lots of milk?”

“That too,” Eoinn said. “But we’re also strong.”

“He’s the strong one, especially,” Quinn pointed. “I’m smart.”

The knowledge of what Conn had done settled into Kirk’s heart. He squeezed the boys’ shoulders. “You’re augments.”

“Yes! We like it though!” Eoinn said. “I get to be with Quinn forever.”

“And how old are you?”

“Nine,” they chorused.

Kirk resisted the urge to vomit. To do such a radical, irreversible thing on children…. This wasn’t a tattoo or ear piercing, and nothing to do with gender affirmation. Conn had _irredeemably altered their brains_ : they would never know a life beside this one.

“Well, thank you for telling me,” Kirk said around the nausea weighing down his tongue.

“We like you,” Quinn said, smiling. “We’ve been watching.”

“We fit perfectly in the vents,” Eoinn said. “You won’t tell Uncle Conn, will you?”

“No, your secret’s safe with me.”

“And Uncle Suibhne also likes you,” Quinn said. “He was sad too, once Mama died. He and Uncle Conn argued a lot.”

“Suibhne kept yelling no and that he didn’t want to do something. We hid from all the yelling. Not in the vents though. We weren’t on this planet yet,” Eoinn added.

“It was silent—Uncle Conn and Uncle Suibhne went into the lab and didn’t come out for a long time—but then Suibhne screamed for a whole hour, and then our uncles were like we are now.”

Another punch to the heart. Kirk was getting information secondhand from younger children, but the implications of what they’d just said…. Conn and Suibhne were paired augments. Suibhne hadn’t been very willing to enter such an arrangement.

“You only talk like this in the forest, right?” Kirk said. “Not all the time.”

“What’s ‘like this?’ Eoinn asked.

“We talk the same everyplace,” said Quinn. “Uncle Conn says we’re chatterboxes.”

Eoinn, looking sheepish, said, “We’re working on that though. Uncle Conn says silence is golden. Have you seen gold?”

“We hear it is shiny and yellow,” Quinn said. “But I don’t understand how it gets in the ground.”

For a wild second, Spock’s face flashed in Kirk’s mind. Kirk said, “My First Officer could tell you. He told me a riddle about gold once. Would you like to hear it?”

“Yes!” the boys chorused, delighted. “We have told you lots, so you must tell us things now too.”

“An exchange!” Quinn exclaimed. “We like exchanges!”

“Shall we go back inside where it’s warm? I’m not augmented like you. I get cold.”

The boys agreed, and Kirk took one of their hands in each of his. It was slow work traversing the dense winter bramble thicket: mostly Quinn led, while Eoinn stomped behind. Kirk kept his head low, but his robe hissed and dissolved to tatters despite his efforts.

Before they returned to the path, though, Eoinn stopped. “A rhino is nearby.”

Quinn stopped too, and listened. “I hear it, brother.”

Eoinn tugged on Kirk’s hand. “You need to get down, Captain Kirk. It’s no good fighting a rhino with just us and you.”

Kirk crouched even lower. Truth be told, he’d wanted to see these beasts, but it was idle curiosity. Still. If they were so huge, how did they travel so silently in the snow? He couldn’t hear anythi—

Crunch, crunch, crunch.

Kirk heard: a gentle crushing noise, accompanied by the soft swish of fur against a snowbank. “Look that way,” Quinn said, pointing to their left, back the way they had come. Kirk turned and saw.

There was no one accurate way to describe it, but rather two accurate ways. First, it brought to mind wooly mammoths, those huge creatures that had benignly roamed Terra’s frozen wasteland without batting an eye at the cold and filled the bellies of Kirk’s ancestors with their hot, bloody meat. So the rhino was like a wooly mammoth in size, but instead of a trunk and two tusks, it had a single, huge horn sticking off its nose. It was in this way that it resembled a furred rhino: the horn, the tiny ears, the beady eyes, the confidence that its sheer bulk would forge a path in the forest, no matter the brush, undergrowth, mud, or snow.

“Shhh,” said Quinn, pressing a finger to his lips. “They’re scared easily, and then start running towards sound.”

Kirk nodded. He went absolutely still. He could feel his own heartbeat, feel the pulses in the hands he held. He imagined he was a stone.

The creature slowly trudged out of their vision. The boys waited two minutes longer and then let out a collective breath. “It’s gone. We can go back now.”

“Are they usually that large?” Kirk asked, voice still low.

“Sometimes bigger,” Quinn said.

Suddenly, the hand that held Quinn was yanked hard back, and Kirk fell face forward trying to resist, but pain flared like a blade in his shoulder joint. Quinn screamed. Digging his heel into the ground, Kirk spun to face their attacker, whirling Eoinn just out of reach of another hand and behind him. Kirk sprang to his feet to face Conn, the scientist’s face livid and arms full of squirming nine-year-old.

“No!” Eoinn cried. “Leave him alone!”

“I would if you had obeyed me and kept hidden instead of being meddlesome spies!” Conn spit. The enraged scientist managed to get his arms around Quinn.

“Stop—” Kirk yelled. His hand flew to his hip, where his phaser was supposed to be.

Too late. Two sickening pops sounded. Two broken ribs in a little boy.

Quinn wailed, and Eoinn shot out of Kirk’s hand and launched himself at his uncle. With an unsettling ease, Conn switched a crying Quinn to one arm and caught Eoinn with the other, swinging back a little so as to not be caught by the momentum. The boys squirmed and kicked, but Conn had them tight.

“Now, Captain,” Conn said to Kirk, darkly, “I’m sure my nephews have been their usual little tattle-tale selves. I’m not sorry to say that you must now join your colleagues in an acclimation chamber immediately.”

Kirk doubted Conn alone had subdued Spock and Bones, but perhaps, with other augments to help him…. It might not be a bluff.

Conn squeezed his nephews meaningfully. “There are other ways I can make you comply besides hurting them.”

True: in a fight, Kirk would lose. He’d seen the weights in the training yard.

Conn saw the defeat in Kirk’s expression. “Follow me, Captain.”

Turning, Conn began walking back to the garden path. They hadn’t a long way to go, for which Kirk was grateful since it meant less stumbling for him. The boys’ faces were closed off and emotionless, eerily so. It wasn’t natural for two such bubbly children to be able to flip an emotional switch like that.

Kirk gritted his teeth. They emerged from the forest and back in the training arena. Now.

With all his might, Kirk kicked Conn in the back of the knees. Conn buckled forward, and Kirk grabbed Quinn by the hips and slipped him out of Conn’s grip. Then he ran.

Quinn whimpered and clung to Kirk as the Captain ran backwards into the forest. He whipped out his comm, stabbed the Open Channel button, and shouted, “ _Enterprise,_ this is Captain Kirk. Two to emergency beam up!”

#

Kirk walked into the acclimation chamber of his own free will. Spock and Bones looked surprised.

“Sorry to be late,” Kirk said, casually, to let them know he was all right.

“Jim, what happened?” Bones asked, worry further lining his face. Rich of him to worry since he was sporting a black eye himself. The abused flesh had purpled over this left eye.

Bones still had his tricorder and soon the thing was buzzing and glowing over Kirk. “I’m fine, Bones,” Kirk said.

“Yeah, you are,” Bones huffed, checking his readings. “But where have you been? We were forced in here almost an hour ago.”

“Spock?” The Vulcan hadn’t said anything, simply moved close to Kirk. The Captain didn’t like the darkness in Spock’s eyes, the silence and inaction. Spock held out a hand and Kirk laced their fingers and palms together. To do this in front of others…. Spock must have been deeply affected by the meld.

“We have been presented with pills, Captain,” Spock said. “There are three of them.”

“Which is which?” Kirk said, moving them closer to the bed and the nightstand. Three pink pills sat, deceptively innocent, on the wood.

“We don’t know. Conn said it doesn’t matter which person becomes whatever partner-type.”

“And it doesn’t,” a voice came from above. “You are all equally suited to each role.”

Letting go of Spock’s hand, Kirk spun to face one of the cameras in the corner. “Conn,” Kirk said.

“Thank you for joining us, Captain,” Conn said over the speaker. “It will be interesting to see how this plays out.”

“Oh really?” Kirk said. He began walking around, strutting almost. He clasped his hands behind his back. “But what I want to know, Dr. Walsh, is why your augments are not working.”

There was a pause. Then: “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Your moral partner has a doctorate in theology and ascribes to a Christian religion,” said Kirk. “And yet, he allows you to kidnap Starfleet officers and augment your own nephews? That doesn’t sound very moral to me. In fact, where is he now? Show him to me!” Kirk gestured around the room.

“Suibhne is not available at this time.”

“Ah,” Kirk touched his own nose. “Is that because he’s locked up like us? A big scientist like you, running this whole facility—and it _is_ a nice facility by the way—you don’t have time for limits, do you? The world is open for _you_. Man’s reach exceeds his imagination _for you and you alone_. So, you found a way to overcome the programming—or perhaps never received the programming to begin with?

“’Cause what is your experiment really doing anyway? It’s not about all this man versus nature hogwash.” Kirk resumed pacing, gesticulating wildly as he went. “It’s about taking an individual and forcing them into a permanent relationship. Instead of doing things the old-fashioned way, the whole dinner-and-games-and-movies malarkey—you don’t have time for that do you? Or you simply couldn’t manage, could you, Dr. Walsh, with your anti-social tendencies and history of being downright psychopathic. You see, I took the time to look you up—you don’t have a full Starfleet profile, but rumors are rumors just the same.”

Bones grabbed Kirk’s arm. “Jim, what are you doing? You think it’s wise to make the guy with his finger on the trigger mad?”

“Trigger?” Kirk asked.

A red laser beamed out of the cameras and incinerated a hole about a millimeter from Kirk’s right foot. “As you can see, Captain, this room is equipped with counter-measures for those augments with more violent urges….”

“You’re taking advantage of people’s fear of being alone,” Kirk said. “It’s despicable.”

“That’s all very nice, but it doesn’t really matter at this point. You will only go free from the room once each of you have eaten one pill. Your choices are to eat the pills or starve.”

“Such pretty choices,” Kirk said, sarcasm dripping.

“And you know, while you’re stuck in here, I think I’ll help myself to the _Enterprise_ ’s resources.”

Kirk stopped. “What?”

“There are many ways to bring a ship out of orbit, to have it crash down to Fionntain. And think of the watershed of test subjects, building materials, and technology it would bring. Truly a windfall.”

“Don’t touch the _Enterprise_ ,” Kirk warned, voice going dangerous and low.

“I would definitively advise against it,” Spock said, stirring.

“So you say. I think I’ll send the orders right now. Tysheka can monitor you.”

“Conn!” Kirk shouted, sharp. “Get back here!”

A sudden cry came over the loudspeaker. A crackling and a fumbling. And then Aria Hooper’s voice, “Attention all personnel, this facility is on fire. Please evacuate immediately. A transporter pad has been set up in the viewing platform for anyone willing to return to Terra under refugee status with Starfleet.”

“Archivist Hooper?” Bones said with a start. “What—you?”

Tim, looking triumphant but sooty, kicked open their door. “One way ticket out of this hellhole leaving immediately.”

#

Kirk sat in his Captain’s chair and took a breath in and a breath out. He was ready. “Open channel to all personnel, Lieutenant Uhura.”

Uhura clicked her switches with her usual speed and professionalism. “Channel open, Captain.”

“Attention all _Enterprise_ crew,” Kirk began. “I’m sure you’ve all noticed some new faces around the ship, and I’ve heard some very interesting rumors about how they got there. Before we leave Fionntain’s orbit, I would like to clarify. You can read the Captain’s log yourself for the details about what happened on planet, but know this: all the new passengers are to be considered refugees, including Jack Aubrey, who has no standing within Starfleet itself. The refugees have escaped a harrowing man and a harrowing experience, so don’t nettle about them unnecessarily with questions. As per standard procedure, our heading has changed to Terra in order to accommodate protocols from Starfleet HQ itself demanding we provide the refugees relief.

“To all refugees, I want to repeat that Dr. Walsh and the pairs who refused our help have still not been found. The compound has been burned to the ground, and neither Conn nor anyone else has returned to scavenge. They remain undetectable by scan due to geographical interference. I want to remind you that you are safe here on the _Enterprise_. We will be on Terra soon. Kirk out.”

Kirk ended the transmission and bounced out of the Captain chair. “Lieutenant Sulu, take the helm. Mr. Spock, you and me owe Bones an explanation and a physical.”

“Aye, aye, Captain,” Sulu said, taking Kirk’s place. Spock merely nodded and followed the Captain into the turbolift.

Sickbay was crowded, stuffed full of augmented humans wanting reassurance that they were well as they could be. Nurse Chapel and Bones had their back to the door while consulting with Aria and Tim, who, considering Conn was on the loose, had packed up their research and decided to take a well-deserved vacation.

“Better wait until they’re done,” Kirk said to Spock. “I don’t want to get yelled at anymore than I already will be.”

“I know Doctor McCoy in all his unpredictability,” Spock said. “But I doubt he will be angry with you for saving all these people from a man of questionable sanity.”

“I’m just happy so many people came,” Kirk said, including….”

“Uncle Jim!” two little boy voices shouted. “Have we left yet?”

Eoinn and Quinn, both healthy and smiling, raced towards Kirk and up into his arms. “Oof,” Kirk laughed. “You boys have been eating your greens.”

“Doctor Bones and Nurse Chapel have been giving us lots of green things,” Eoinn said.

Quinn agrees, “Yes! But have we left yet, Uncle Jim? Are we in deep space?”

Spock said, “We should be approaching Warp 5 once out of Fionntain’s orbit.”

“And,” Eoinn said, “are we…away from Uncle Conn?”

“Yes, you are,” Kirk said.

A figure emerged from the crowd—Suibhne. Of all the people Kirk was glad to have aboard, Suibhne and the twins are the most welcome. “Captain,” Suibhne said, nodding and gentle. “Are we really away?”

“Yes,” Kirk said, equally soft-toned. Spock put a hand on Kirk’s shoulder. “You did a brave thing.”

“I feel a coward,” Suibhne said, turning away. Kirk noticed his eyes tearing up anyway. “Conn and I set out to improve humanity, and we…he….”

“He went too far,” Kirk said.

Spock continued, “Improving humanity is a noble cause, Dr. Suibhne. Many things have been done in its name, things history has judged as good, and as evil. One must not lose sight of the means and only focus on the end. That would be illogical.”

“I have been praying,” Suibhne said. “And I think God agrees with you, Mr. Spock.”

“Don’t give him any ideas,” Bones butted in, wiping his hands. Nodding to Kirk and Spock, he added, “Aren’t you two looking all family-ish.”

“Where will you go, after all this?” Kirk asked the boys, bouncing them a little.

The twins giggled. “Back to Terra with Uncle Suibhne!”

“I have family in Athlone, Ireland,” Suibhne explained. “They’ve wanted me to visit for a long time.”

“That will be good,” Kirk said. “Family is…precious.”

Suibhne nodded and then glanced at Bones. “Come along, boys, the Captain and Commander Spock have to speak with Dr. McCoy.”

“Bye, Uncle Jim! Bye Commander Spock!” the twins chorused, scampering out of Kirk’s arms and no doubt into someone else’s. Suibhne followed without looking backward.

“Well,” Bones breathed. “Care to explain what happened after you ran after those two?”

“It’s really quite simple,” Kirk said, and he explained what the twins had revealed in the forest. Bones snorted and started waving a tricorder over his body, examining.

“That Dr. Walsh was bad news from the beginning. I keep telling ya, Jim: you’ve got to listen to other people’s instincts. Archivist Hooper’s got a good head on her shoulders, and if you’d listened to her in the first place, you’d avoided going in unprepared and puking up muffin.”

“His facility and methods were perfectly acceptable until it was revealed that he engaged in underage human testing,” Spock said. “You said so yourself, Doctor.”

“I know what I said,” Bones growled. “And I partly regret it. I mean, look at these people,” He gestured to the milling crowd in sickbay, “almost a full ship’s company regretting a decision they can’t undo.”

Spock said, “We don’t know if they regret their decision, but perhaps who made it possible.” Looking around the room, Spock said, “As far as I can observe, the pairings maintain their emotional closeness even off-planet and out from Dr. Walsh’s influence, but only time will tell if they remain so.”

Bones started fluttering his tricorder over Spock. “All right, all right, tell us what happened after you beamed up.”

“Oh, well, I took Quinn to Nurse Chapel in sickbay, did a little research on our resident mad scientist, alerted Starfleet that Conn was out of line, got permission to immediately dismantle his facility, contacted Tim and Aria, asked for their services, which they were more than willing to provide, beamed back down, walked back into Conn’s facility, stalled for time while Aria and a security team took over facility communications and Tim set the place on fire. Simple.”

Bones rolled his eyes. “‘Simple,’ he says. Why can’t all that be simple for me.”

Kirk said, “Well, you’re not a Captain.”

“No,” Spock and Bones said in unison. Bones startled, and Spock gave the merest impression of a half-smile. “I trust you never want to be,” Spock said.

“You got that right!” Bones said, looking the pair of them up and down. “You two are enough as it is!”


End file.
